The Ultimate Sacrifice
by Lady-of-Lorien1
Summary: Sydney and Vaughn are trapped in Irina's safehouse, and face death, until unexpected help arrives. I've been told that my plot is completely original, although the storyline starts out slowly-please bear with me.
1. Unpleasant Surprises

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The Ultimate Sacrifice

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Author: leggylover

Rating: PG-13 (maybe later R due to violence)

Category: Definitely action, maybe a little angst or romance later. Non-slash (though I don't know how this could be slash :)

Disclaimer: Can you hear the sobbing? It's me, cause I'm so sad that I'm poor and don't own any of this crap (well, it's definitely NOT crap).

Summary: Okay, this story involves a major plot twist so I can't really summarize anything, or else I'd give the whole thing away. All I can say is that it follows the Alias storyline and it begins with Sydney in the clutches of the Man. Contains spoilers for the season finale of Alias (god, I love that show!). Trust me, this is worth a read.

Okay, I've got a confession to make. I'm an absolute newbie at writing stories on fanfiction.net. I've spent the last few months moping around the site, picking random stories and admiring (with some amount of jealousy) the AMAZING TALENT of the other authors on this site. Of course, I realize that I could never compare with masters like a.j. matthews, di, and Marylou, but if you could find it in your infinitely generous heart to read and review me, I would be grateful for all eternity!! Pretty please? Okay, okay, I'll put in a bribe. All reviewers will be personally thanked at the end of each chapter. Thank you in advance, 'cause I JUST KNOW that you're gonna review * wink, wink, nudge, nudge * Oh yeah, this story might start out a little slow, but I promise, I've got a great plot planned.

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Chapter One: Unpleasant Surprises

The pounding pain in her head was almost unbearable. Through her hazy vision, Sydney could barely make out her surroundings: a damp, empty, warehouse-like room. God, she had never experienced pain like this before in her life, save that time she had been tortured by Taiwanese interrogators. Trying to block the excruciating memory from her mind, Sydney struggled to focus her thoughts. She remembered, vaguely, an image of Vaughn's face, pressed up against the window of the dark, water-filled room. His expression, surprisingly, hadn't been frantic, just calm and almost stoic, resigned to his fate. The last she ever saw of him. Now, after being knocked out by an armed security guard, she was here, alone, defenseless, and totally vulnerable. The one thing she hated being the most: helpless.

Hearing approaching footsteps, Sydney shook herself from her miserable wanderings, forcing herself to concentrate on reality. The heavy footsteps, obviously belonging to a man, quickened and neared. Before she even saw his face, Sydney knew from the lengthening shadow who her captor was. She had studied his frame countless times, under the guidance of both SD-6 and the CIA. Alexander Khasinau, the enemy of the United States of America. After spending her entire career trying to track down "The Man," Sydney was finally face to face with him. 

His first words surprised her, "You should eat something." 

"I'm not hungry," was the insolent reply, accompanied by a small sneer.

The forkful of hot food that Khasinau had been offering to Sydney was withdrawn, and he stood up to go.

"Wait. What are you going to do to me?" Sydney boldly asked, her impassive _expression not betraying her fear.

"My boss will come to see you."

"But I thought 'The Man' was the boss."

"She is, but I am not The Man."

Before Sydney even had the chance to process this mind boggling new revelation, a new person had entered. And this new person looked almost identical to…………..herself? Her heart skipping a beat, Sydney uttered the words that would change her life. 

"Mom?"

Her mind was in shock, trying but failing to believe what see was seeing. No, it couldn't be, her heart argued. No, No, NO!! Her mother had worked for the KGB, and might not have been a good person. But she just COULDN'T be the enemy of the United States, the CIA's enemy. Her enemy.

Sydney's mother smiled cruelly at her daughter. "Surprised?" she asked. No, it wasn't a question. It was a taunt.

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*Sydney's POV*

I couldn't think. I could barely even breathe. This wasn't possible. My mom…MY MOTHER was…….the Man? No, my mind corrected itself. This bitch isn't your mother; she is Irina Derevko, a stranger, someone cruel and unfeeling that you don't even know. Seeing my shock, Derevko smirked again, then with one quick step reached forward and sharply slapped my face. "There, that should clear your senses." It was all I could do to keep myself from spitting on her, cursing her, but I knew that would be suicide. Insulting the Man could result in only one thing: death, or worse. 

"Now, now. We mustn't get angry. You wouldn't want to frighten off your visitor." Her sweet façade disgusted me, reminding me of Sloane.

I remained silent.

"Come now, I should hope that my daughter is not this indifferent. Well, we shall just have to fix that." The malice behind the casual words was obvious. 

Snapping her fingers brusquely, Irina summoned the attention of guards standing outside the door, who in response hastily wheeled in a metal table. To my horror, I realized that the table was colored with dark, reddish stains and was covered with a terrifying assortment of devices obviously intended for torture. 

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This is it my mind thought to itself. _The life of Sydney Bristow ends here._ Steeling myself for the pain that was to come, I almost missed her words when my mother said to the guards, "Bring him in." A tall, lean man was forcibly dragged in and thrown to the ground. When he lifted his face to meet my eyes, time came to a standstill. It was the man that meant to most to me in my life, the man I thought for sure was dead. For the second time in ten minutes, I experienced shock and amazement beyond belief. My heart literally stopped as I realized whom I was gazing at. 

Vaughn. 

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I'm only thirteen, and this is my first shot at writing a story, so please, please, please take pity on me and review. Constructive criticism is welcome, flames are welcome, praise is VERY welcome ANYTHING HERE,PEOPLE. Well, I hoped you liked it. I'm a true fan of Alias.


	2. To Find and To Lose

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Chapter Two: To Find and To Lose

A/N: THANK YOU REVIEWERS!!!!! You totally made my day! At the end of the chapter should be a list of all the people who have reviewed so far, with special thank you's to the reviewers who REALLY made writing this story worth writing! I hope this chapter is just as good!

Dedication: To my friend and html handler, Daphne Wu. Sorry I forgot to thank you last chapter, Daff! (See, I told you I'd publicly apologizeJ)

Help me, please! What's a beta reader? Everyone seems to have one and I don't. Whatever it is, I need one! My e-mail address is girlpest@yahoo.com if anyone wants to volunteer. *looks up with puppy dog eyes*

As usual, any reviewers will be credited in the next chapter!!

Summary: Like last time, no summary because of major plot twists (REALLY major this time). Wouldn't want to spoil the story for you!!

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*Vaughn's POV* (**while he is in the water-filled room)**

I knew when the door closed that my life was over. While the waves of water slammed onto my body, I prepared for death: I thought about life. My life, it hadn't been too bad. I hadn't had the most glamorous or high-paying job or the best house, but I _really would_ miss the simple pleasures of life. I would miss talking and joking with Weiss, playing with my dog; hell, I would even miss yelling at Haladki. But most of all, I would miss Sydney, her bright smile and sunny personality that could light me up inside. We were never in a "relationship" together, but I could honestly say that I loved her. 

And I regret not telling her that; I regret not having the opportunity to maybe-just maybe-think of her as something other than a spy who I just happened to be the handler of. 

Keeping my mind occupied helped me get through the most difficult moments of my life. It wasn't the lack of oxygen or the thought of death that terrified me-it was Sydney's face. I'd never seen her look like that before, as she tried again and again to release me from that hellhole. A mixture of the familiar Sydney determination and a new expression that I couldn't quite place. Was it helplessness? Sadness? Whatever it was, it made me almost believe that she loved me, too. Almost. 

After a while, I no longer cared whether I lived or not. Dying wasn't too bad, I thought. But no matter what happened, I refused to let Sydney see it. So with the last of my strength I pushed against the door, thrusting myself into the depths of the inky room. And just as I closed my eyes and felt myself slipping into blessed unconsciousness, the water in the room started draining away as quickly as it had been filled. 

Knowing that getting air in the next few seconds was my only chance of survival, I mustered all the energy I had left into one swift kick and, after what seemed like an eternity, broke the water's surface, gasping for air. The burning in my lungs was worse than after any workout I'd even been through but right then at that moment, all I could feel was relief. The relief quickly turned to a feeling of caution and even fear, however, as I began wondering who was behind my rescue. I prayed that no one unfriendly has staged this and that they could not see me in the semidarkness of the hallway. No such luck. My heart jumped into my throat as I heard a voice crackle through an intercom somewhere on the ceiling.

"Stay where you are, Mr. Vaughn. Unless you want to get hurt, that is."

The lights flickered back on and I could now see that the walls of the hallway were retractable and that they had slid back slightly to allow the water to seep through. 

With a loud bang, the sliding door opened and before I could even react, armed guards grabbed me and pinned me to the ground. Through the doorway stepped another person, a woman this time, her heels clicking on the floor. A woman that I would recognize anywhere: Sydney's mother, the woman who had murdered my father in cold blood. Before I could speak, she silenced me with a wave of her hand.

"Hello, Mr. Vaughn." I detected a slight Russian accent. "I've been wanting to meet you for a long time. You remind me of your father."

At these words, the rage within me broke out. Spitting out a string of expletives, I strained futilely against the guards' grasps, only to have them tighten their hold on me. 

Sydney's mother, far from looking affected by my violent reaction, looked almost amused.

"I suppose you've heard of me, then. I'm Sydney's mother, otherwise known as the Man."

She abruptly spun on her heel and walked out of the room.

Not giving me a chance to think, much less go after her, the guards pressed a disgustingly sweet cloth to my face. Darkness ensued. 

The darkness pressed down all around me, and my vision swam. Half-unconscious still, from the powerful dose of morphine I had been given, I stumbled to my feet with some effort. Rubbing my eyes, I perceived that I was in a small, dingy, closet-like room, where the Man most likely kept his prisoners. Oh, yeah. The Man wasn't a he; he was a she-Sydney's mother, I thought with a small amount of dry sarcasm. 

The key to cell door turned and the room was suddenly bathed in fluorescent light. Blinking, I drew in a sharp breath as I made out the features of…the Man. Once again, guards, who quickly came and restrained me in case I tried anything, accompanied her. 

Without saying a word, Derevko turned around and the guards followed, roughly dragging me with them. We went down a series of twisting passages, so it got that my already spinning head became dizzy to the point of collapse. Closing my eyes, I let myself be led along. 

"I have a surprise for you Mr. Vaughn." Irina's mouth was so close to my ear I could feel her hot breath on my earlobe. Seeing me shudder in repulsion made her chuckle. 

I didn't want to know what the surprise was.

Unfortunately, I didn't have a choice. I was literally thrown into the room, and landed painfully on my knees. Dreading what was to come, I dared to look up. And what I saw was…Sydney….

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*Sydney's POV* (picking off from last time)

Was it possible to feel so much joy and relief at one time? I thought. Vaughn wasn't dead. He wasn't dead; I wouldn't have to feel guilty anymore. 

"Awww…isn't sweet? Agent and handler reunited." I didn't like the sound of Irina's voice.

She walked over to the table that had been brought in, and picked up a steel poker. From the heat that it emitted, I could tell that it had been very recently put into a fire. 

Smiling nastily, her eyes wandered from Vaughn to me, possibly deciding who to kill first.

Striding purposely over to Vaughn, she said to him, "Ever been burned my a hot poker Mr. Vaughn? It hurts. A lot. And I judge from your _expression that you wouldn't like to experience it. Well, I'm afraid the only person that can save you is Sydney. But, you know, I have a feeling it might take some persuasion." Her voice was dripping with fake innocence.

"Yes, Sydney, you heard me right. You're the only one who can save lovely Mr. Vaughn here. But it won't be that easy. I'll let him go……..that is, only if you abandon your career with the CIA and join **me**."

"And if you decide not to join me," she said, tracing Vaughn's jaw line with a fingernail "let's just say the fun part is still to come."

"I'll give you a while to think about it."

Guards grabbed Vaughn again, pulling him out of the room, and she followed, the door creaking to a close behind her.

A/N: Sorry if I disappointed anyone. I know this chapter wasn't as well written as the last, but I can't concentrate on style and action at the same time! Well, stay with me, cause I've got a BIG HUGE MAJOR plot twist coming up. The first two are NOTHING compared to the one that's to come. Yes, I know I'm evil. Below should be a list of the people who reviewed last chapter. You have no idea how much I love ya'll!!!!!

Christina

ecd

Spotlight85

Lurker

Anonymous

Kendra 

Odessa

Masquerade

Extra Hugs and Kisses to:

Couch

CrimsonRose

Placebo

Ann

Songbird

Shonda01

Thanks soooo much to everyone who reviewed. YOU are the reason I write!


	3. Revelations

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Chapter Three: Revelations

A/N: Whoo!!! Another chapter! I'm so proud *sniffle, sniffle*! Hopefully this new chapter will be taking the plot somewhere new but I don't read Alias fan fics (I read only Lord of the Rings) so I really don't know what the masses are writing about. Sorry if my ideas are a little (well, A LOT) overused. But read on, 'cause I REALLY think that the ideas for this chapter are pretty original. Please???

Dedication: To Couch, who remains my most loyal and supportive reviewer. Go you!

Special thanks also to Anonymous, who made me aware of my story's shortcomings! As usual, at the end will be a list of people who reviewed my last chapter. Love ya!

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*Irina's POV*

I felt a small tug of guilt as I watched Sydney sit there with a look of stunned betrayal on her face. She was, after all, my daughter and I had just put her in probably the most heart-wrenching position she had ever been in, in her life. But then the hardened side of me took over, and once again I felt nothing but cruel joy at her predicament. When I left the room, my heart was once again made out of stone.

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*Sydney's POV*

There was really nothing to think about. 

My mother had given me two choices: join her and Vaughn lives, or refuse and let him die. The humane, merciful thing to do, of course, was to save Vaughn's life and become one of the Man's minions; and, believe me, that's what I wanted to do. I would sacrifice anything for Vaughn, even my own life. But I had a duty that surpassed anything else in this world; I had a duty to my country. A pledge of loyalty that I could never, NEVER, break.

To join Derevko in working against the United States, working against everything that I had ever believed in and against the principles I had instilled inside myself, that would be unthinkable. 

More so than Vaughn's death. 

Even if she did keep me here against my will after I made my choice, I knew that I would never be able to live with myself knowing that I had succumbed to such evil, even under the circumstances that I was in. There was no other choice. 

Why, then, did my heart cry out against the choice that I had made?

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*Normal POV*

Bam! The steel door slammed shut in Vaughn's face, leaving him alone in a tiny, brightly lit room, probably designed to drive its prisoners crazy. Knowing that there was nothing to do now but wait for the verdict, wait for Sydney's choice, Vaughn curled up against the door, and, without realizing it, fell into the world of dreams.

Irina turned to Khasinau, who was standing outside the door. "Make sure he gets something to eat. He should taste something before he dies."

Seeing Khasinau's startled look, she smirked, "Have you learned nothing from working with me, you imbecile? Irina Derevko always does what she wants, regardless of others' decisions."

"Now, GO! Before I lose my temper and get rid of you as well."

Khasinau scurried off to the kitchens hurriedly, not wanting to anger his boss further.

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*Khasinau's POV*

I had hoped that it would not come to this, that I would not have to reveal my true identity until after this…..ordeal. But now that it was confirmed that my superior would kill Vaughn and enslave Sydney anyway, I saw that I had no other choice. So as I prepared Vaughn's food, I slipped in a little something extra. And prayed that my plan would work.

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*Francie's POV*

My life was a mess recently. I had gotten engaged, broken up with my fiancé, and gotten engaged again. Now, to top it off, it was two o'clock in the morning, my best friend Sydney still hadn't come home, and Will, my second best friend, was officially missing. God, if I was a suicidal person, I would have killed myself by now. 

Briiinnngggg!!!! I nearly fell off the bed as the phone on my nightstand jumped off the hook. "Who the hell would be calling at this hour? Not even Will would have the nerve," I thought to myself. Then, realizing that I was letting my mind wander to Will again, the one person I DIDN'T want to think about, I sighed with frustration and picked up the phone, prepared to yell at whoever was on the other end of the line.

But the first sound I heard made me freeze.

"Hello, Francie." It wasn't the words themselves that terrified me, it was the voice that accompanied them. Deep, distorted, unidentifiable, something out of a horror movie. Only ten times worse, because it was actually happening to me. 

The person obviously guessed my thoughts, as he immediately said, "Don't hang up. You'll regret it."

Which is when I should have hung up; and looking back now that is what I should have done. But something about the person's voice made me stay on the line as he said his next words.

"What do you know about the 'bank' that Sydney works for?"

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*Normal POV*

Irina's face was within two inches of Sydney's, so that she could feel Irina's breath on her face.

"So my dear daughter, have you come to the end of your…deliberation?"

"Go to hell," Sydney spat out.

"I suppose then, that means that you refuse my offer, leaving Mr. Vaughn to die."

"Fine!" she shouted, feigning anger. 

Pivoting on her heel, Irina strode to the door of the room. Just before she pulled open the door, however, she turned around to face Sydney.

"He dies tomorrow at dawn."

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*Vaughn's POV*

I woke up with a start, my mouth dry and in desperate need of water. The almost white light in the room didn't help my throbbing temples, either. "Man, Vaughn. Why did you have to fall asleep? You could've spent your time trying to find a way to bust it out of here." I chided myself.

But looking around at the room, I realized miserably that there WAS no way out of here. My fate really was in Sydney's hands.

Suddenly, I was forced to get up, and, turning around, saw that a tray, on top of which was a plate of food and a bowl of water had been pushed through a slot that I had been leaning against. 

Realizing that I was ravenous and nearly dying of thirst, I sprang forward, then stopped myself. "Never touch food or drink that an enemy gives you," I remembered my training days early on at the CIA. But that fresh water---it looked so good. Throwing caution to the winds, I rushed forward and downed the water, drinking it in deep gulps, then turned to the food. Well, I wasn't hungry enough yet to eat something that the Man gave me without inspecting it first. 

So taking the fork that was also on the tray, I began sifting through the rice. And at the bottom of the plate, instead of finding poision, I found…a note written in tiny script on a thin sheet of plain paper. Holding it up to the light, I deciphered the writing.

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I have been an undercover agent of the CIA for over ten years, first working with the KGB, and then under the Man. This will come as extremely unexpected but I swear I am on your side. Your trust in me is vital to my plan. I will contact you some way shortly.

The note was signed at the bottom:

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Khasinau

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A/N: I'm particularly proud of this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it. The next few chapters should be very action-packed, with some cliffhangers (especially the predicament that Francie is in) as well, so stick with me. Again, lots of love to all my reviewers, but especially to Couch. Also, I hope I got all my Alias facts straight in this chapter, but I'm really confused about all that "organized crime" crap (yes, I visited the website at ABC.com and actually read EVERYTHING there. I work my butt off for ya'll) so forgive me if I'm wrong about everything (hopefully not).

To Anonymous: I hope that you liked this chapter; I worked especially hard so that you would be satisfied.

Liz

Anonymous

Katie

Andi Horton

Hermione512

Anonymous

Anonymous

Calla Lancaster

Masquerade

Mojoco

Couch J

Ecd

Jen 

Kiwikendra 

Sorry if I misspelled anyone's name or missed anyone, but it's Sunday night and really late and tomorrow's a school day (eighth grade= homework) so…well, I'm sure you know the feeling. Much love to everyone (keep up the AWESOME reviews!!!!!!!). Also, I'm really sorry this took a while to update but I'm really busy with school right now, so bear with me. I'll probably update about once a week from now on.

---Lady of the Golden Wood


	4. Curtains

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Chapter Four: Curtains

A/N: You guys ROCK! I know that I say this way too much, but I really do appreciate what you do! There's a section in this chapter that has some wry humor that doesn't exactly fit the overall serious mood; I do apologize, but I was feeling a little sarcastic on Saturday (which is when I wrote the majority of this).

Warning: There is some strong profanity at the beginning of the chapter but I really had to put it in there, cause Francie's pissed off.

Majorly (ok, that's not a word. Who else here hates spell check?!).

To lurker: Thank you for warning me about the choppy format. I'll try to improve. After all, I wouldn't want you guys to get a headache reading my story.

Dedication: To Daphne, because she had to read the entire chapter to me while I typed it at a snail's pace (lost my original work. He he). Thank you for telling me all the potential "cringy" areas. LOL. Spanks to you (That's why it took so long to update)

Update- When we finally uploaded it, the formatting got all messed up. Hopefully, this one won't have any problems. 

Here goes Chapter 4- Take three…

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*Francie's POV*

I slammed down the receiver, breathing hard. 

Crap. All of it was crap. 

That liar bastard had told me all these things about Sydney; all these things that I knew were NOT true_! Sydney works for a bank, she works for a bank, a BANK_ for God's sake, not some SD-6. 

SD-6 doesn't exist; it CAN'T exist. 

Because if it does, that means my relationship with my best friend is a lie. 

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Remember the plane ticket a devil said in the back of my mind. The plane ticket that Sydney almost couldn't explain. And those long work hours and business trips. What kind of bank employee works 24/7?

I had known Sydney for a long time, and I KNEW that she wasn't _that_ much of a workaholic. All these questions popping into my head only confused me further, pushing me away from Sydney. 

Maybe I don't have a best friend after all.

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Vaughn's POV*

I burst out laughing, something I hadn't done in weeks, a laughter that started from deep down in my throat and echoed throughout the empty room. 

Who did Khasinau think he was kidding? 

The note was bullshit, a pure, undiluted lie. There was no doubt about that; the only question in my mind was _why_? Why did he go through the effort to write me a note and secretly slip it into my food, when he knew that I would never believe his story? 

Oh, well: it wasn't up to me to find out what was going on in that nut's head. 

Either it was an elaborate plan of Irina's, or the idiot just had a lot of time to kill. 

To be honest, with my life on the line, I didn't care at that point. Tearing the note up and tossing it into the air, I dug into my food. 

The little pieces of paper settled on the cold concrete floor, never to be read again.

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Normal POV*

Khasinau stood meekly in front of Irina Derevko's desk, back hunched over, almost as if he was prepared for her to lash out at him. 

"You asked for me, boss?" 

Looking up just long enough to shoot a glare at Khasinau, Irina snapped, "We need to discuss the details of Mr. Vaughn's execution."

She continued, "I want to be a small…party, just you, me, and Vaughn. Nice and private." 

"Oh, yes," the familiar glint of evil was in her eye. "And of course, Sydney. I'm sure she wouldn't want to miss this once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity." 

"Yes, boss, whatever you say," Khasinau strode towards the door, letting out an unreadable sigh. 

"Where do you think you're going, you fool?" 

"To pick up Vaughn's leftovers." Khasinau enunciated his words as if they were the most natural in the world, as if his visit to Vaughn's cell was to be nothing special. 

"Don't waste your time. I'll have Stephan pick it up later."

Khasinau muttered a curse under his breath, but it wasn't soft enough.

"What did you say?"

Irina's voice almost seemed to carry a threat in its undercurrent.

"Nothing, nothing," Khasinau hastily replied, trying to correct his mistake.

But the damage was done.

As he swung the door upon and walked out of the room, a glint was once again in Irina's eyes. And it wasn't a glint of malice.

It was one of suspicion. 

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*Normal POV* Continued

Khasinau walked down the dingy hallway, looking straight ahead in an almost zombie-like impersonation.

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Goddamn you, _goddamn you_ he berated himself repeatedly. Because of his reckless slip-of-the-tongue in Irina's office, all he could do now was wait for Vaughn's response, which probably wouldn't be very positive.

Though he didn't seem like the brightest man in the world, with his thick accent and seeming minion-like devotion to his superiors, Khasinau wasn't a stupid man. And, besides, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Irina would be watching his every step. 

She had spies around every corner of this safe house, and all who worked for her knew the consequences of being a traitor. 

You got quick death. 

If you were lucky.

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You know there is only one way out of this someone in the back of his mind whispered. And that path didn't seem very likely at all. Almost indefinitely they would be captured, and if they were captured…he shuddered, not wanting to think about the result.

But now, with Derevko wary and Vaughn most certainly mistrustful of his identity, Khasinau knew that that path was the only road he could take. 

But it would not be a pleasant one.

Having made up his mind, he quickened his pace and soon came to an opening in the hallway, where he turned right and stepped into a small room.

It was a rather pathetic room, small, dirty, dim, with only a sagging bed in a corner. It was where he had lived for the past ten years. He didn't even remember what it felt like to sleep in a warm, clean bed anymore.

That was only a wisp of a memory, confined to the past, probably something he would never experience again.

Shaking his head resolutely to clear out the distracting thoughts, Khasinau closed the door of his room, leaving him a semidarkness, then carefully pressed his ear to the door to make sure there were no listeners on the other side.

What he was about to do no one could see OR hear because there were strict rules to living in Irina's "house".

No one save herself could own a weapon, unless they were issued one beforehand. And whether that was because she was afraid of assassination or revolt, no one knew.

All they knew was that, like many of her other rules, the penalty was death.

So Khasinau had never told anyone of his secret hiding place, where he had not only kept a gun but also daggers and ammunition, old weapons given to him by the CIA, which had not been touched in years except dug up for polishing and the sake of just knowing that they were there.

Now, it was time to recover them again, something he was not looking forward to.

Khasinau pried open the floorboards and quickly gave his gun a glance before picking it up.

A click sounded out as the gun was loaded.

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WARNING: SARCASM AHEAD 

Irina smiled and hummed to herself as she walked towards and unlocked the special safe where she kept all her devices of torture. Looking at her weapons, she let out a sigh of satisfaction. Everything was polished and in order, just the way she liked it.

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Hmmmm…Irina thought to herself, shivering with delicious anticipation. _Should I torture Vaughn before I kill him? Or how about a good old-fashioned decapitation? Haven't had one of those in awhile; it might turn out to be quite enjoyable._ _Maybe I'll take pity on him and just shoot him, nice and clean. Wouldn't want Sydney to get TOO upset after all._

Taking out a small handgun, she deposited it in her vest pocket, then locked the safe again.

No need to bother loading it; it always was.

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*Sydney's POV*

I had condemned Vaughn to death. Part of me wanted to laugh and never stop; that would be preferable to tears.

The other part of me wanted to wallow in my misery, punishing myself for the choice that I had made. 

Yet another part wanted to disappear from the face of this earth; it cried out, saying that I wasn't fit to live.

And the last part of me, it told me that I had thrown away my only chance at love. After Danny and Noah, I thought I'd never be able to like a guy in that same way again; thought that I'd never be able to look at another and realize that my knees were shaking. But I had found that guy in Vaughn. 

Sure, Will was a nice substitute for a boyfriend when you wanted to laugh and kid around. 

But Vaughn was different.

I had only felt this way about two other people before, and those two people were dead. Vaughn is, I mean HAD BEEN, the only person that might have saved me from never feeling more than friendly affection towards a guy, and I had just thrown that chance that away.

Oh, my lord. I was crying. Tears were spilling over by themselves, regardless of me telling myself to stop it, stop being weak. But I couldn't stop. I wasn't just crying for Vaughn, for the fact that he would soon never see a sunrise again, but for myself, for my hopelessness at love. And for all the others in this world like me who could never really be themselves, who always had to lie to the ones they cared about, who would never realize what true love is.

Finally, I gave up trying to be the tough girl that I'm not. 

For a very rare moment in my life, I dropped the mask that is Sydney Bristow, secret agent. And I became Sydney, girl without a mother, girl without a real life that belonged to herself, girl with a need to feel love and warmth.

Sobs wracked my body and I gave way to the tears.

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Normal POV*

The sun slowly rose behind the hills, greeting the new day. But two people underground in a grim safe house, this was the end of a day. More specifically, for one of them it was the end of an era, and era of hope. For the other, it was the end of a life.

Early in the morning when the dew had just settled on the grass, guards aroused a groggy Michael Vaughn, pulling him to the room where a day ago he had been led.

He barely registered Sydney's swollen, tear-streaked face (God, she looked like hell) before a blindfold was pulled tightly over his eyes and he was pushed against a wall.

Khasinau and Derevko were there too, one looking solemn, trying to hide his nervousness, and the other looking indifferent. She went through this every day, after all.

Vaughn was still wondering what was happening around him, when without warning Irina raised the gun in her hand and aimed.

A shot echoed around the room, followed by the dull _thud_ of a body dropping to the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

A/N: Well, that was my fourth chapter. Yes, I'm aware that it sucked. Oh, btw I'm joining Beta Club, cross country, and DI so I'll be REALLY, REALLY busy. However, I will try my best to update, so don't give up on me!!!!!

Ummm…real sorry but chapter four was messed up and well, I forgot to change the summary after I took it off. Whoops…*blushes*. PLEASE don't me mad. I started retyping it right away (as you will read in my a/n in the beginning). It took like FORTY hours, so I got the punishment I deserved…right? Hehehehe…..please forgive.

Thanks to:

Odessa

Couch

MSQuicksilver

Andi Horton

Placebo

Kiwikendra

Bria66

Hermione512

Lurker

Trustno1

Daphne (hint, hint)

Annabel

Ami

Geogirl

Mysterious Angel

Loopylou

Lolita

Love you all!!!!!


	5. Alliances Made

****

Chapter Five: Alliances Made

A/N: Sorry for the long delay, but I was having major writer's block. Every weekend I would promise myself to update, and every weekend I would avoid it. Time to face the music. 

I got some reviews a week ago and it seems like a lot of people think that Vaughn is dead and that I've ended my story. Uuummm…that's not quite the ending I had planned so keep on reading.

Before I forget, thanks to all the people who replied to my plea of help. I don't think I incorporated any of your suggestions into this chapter, but you gave me the motivation to keep writing. 

* * *

****

*Francie's POV *

I was a complete wreck. I hadn't slept in three days, days that had passed by quickly, punctuated with terrifying calls from the anonymous tormentor (which I ignored), each day meaning only one thing to me: the chances that Will and Sydney were alive were dwindling still further. All my ambitions in life were gone; I barely ate, showered only when I couldn't stand the lack of hygiene anymore, and rarely thought about my restaurant, which had been my dream for God knows how long. The only thing that was always continuously present in my mind was the thought of the stranger who kept calling me. It was my one connection to my friends—he at least CLAIMED that he knew Sydney, and desperation drove me to my decision.

The next time he called, I wouldn't hang up. I HAD to listen and do whatever was necessary in order to get my friends back, even if that meant turning a blind eye to the fact that I didn't know if the guy was actually trying to help, or if he was trying to get me killed as well. 

The phone rang, a shrill sound that punctured my reverie; my immediate reaction was to grab the receiver and jam it to my ear.

"Hello, hello?? HELLO?"

No reply. 

Then, the fax machine attached to my phone beeped. 

So it hadn't been the stranger contacting me after all. Letting out a whoosh of disappointment, I turned to the paper that was slowly inching out of the fax, fully expecting another one of those stupid advertisements.

But instead of an annoying ad, I made out the lines of a curious map. The paper seemed to be divided into two portions; the first part was a map of a city, and on the other side was printed a map of the inside of a large building.

Dismissing it as a random incident, I settled back onto the bed and didn't even notice when the paper slid onto the floor.

It was not long before the phone rang a second time; this time the sound seemed more urgent and insistent, but that was probably my own anticipation.

After letting it ring a couple of times (I didn't want the stranger to think I cared too much about what he said), I allowed myself to pick up the receiver again.

"Hello, Francie." his usual, chilling greeting; this time I wasn't even given the chance to say hello first. 

"I'm willing to listen to whatever you have to say. Just give me my friend back." I had agonized over these words the entire day, but even after rehearsing them a hundred times, they refused to come out the way I wanted them to-instead of sounding indifferent and tough, I sounded wimpy and frantic.

He let out a little laugh, perhaps mocking my inferiority in the situation, or maybe just asserting the fact that **he** was in control.

"I knew you'd come around."

"There's really not much I can tell you…everything I told you last time was true. Of course…I **do** know where Sydney is as of this moment. You probably wouldn't be interested in my opinion, though, judging by the way you threatened me the last time we…talked."

"Are you looking to get your ass kicked?! **Just tell me where the hell she is!" **My pent-up frustration from the previous days spewed out; the phone in my hand actually vibrated from the sound.

"Touchy, touchy. Well, since you want to know so badly, Sydney is currently being…kept, shall we say, at a safe house in Taipei."

"Did you get my fax?" he abruptly changed the subject.

"That was _your_ fax?" I snapped, trying desperately to hide the surprise and fear that I felt. "How did you know I had a fax machine?" I demanded.

"I've been watching you for a while. But never mind about that." He waved aside the subject.

A new fear arose in my heart. Who was this man, who seemed to know everything about my life, even down to the electronics I owned? Could I really put myself at his mercy? Yes, I could. I had to do it for Sydney.

"You will need that fax to locate Sydney," the deep throat broke the tense silence. "The top map illustrates the exact place where she is being held in Taipei, and the bottom is a sketch of the interior of the safe house."

"The building is heavily guarded, and difficult to get into. Here's what you need to know… 

Ten minutes later, I hung up, having obtained all the information I needed, or so I believed.

Grabbing the phone again, I dialed my travel agent's number.

"Hello? Mr. Greenleaf? Yes, I know it's late and I'm really sorry, but I have an emergency. Can you book me a ticket to Taipei within the next ten hours? I'll be willing to pay whatever price you can wrangle. Thank you very much. Bye-bye."

I had secured a speedy passage to Taipei; now all I needed to do was find a way to bust into a high-security safe house and rescue Sydney. Despite my extreme nervousness, I couldn't help feeling the tiniest hint of excitement; I've always had a secret desire to be a spy.

* * *

Sydney squeezed her eyes even more tightly shut as flecks of blood stained her clothing. 

Vaughn's blood.

Knowing that she would have to confront the scene sooner or later, she lifted an eyelid, hardly daring to breathe. 

And the sight she was met with was the most gratifying she had ever experienced.

Vaughn had indeed been shot, but it was only a shoulder wound, not a fatal one. 

The only person who had really been hurt was her mother, who was sprawled face down in the middle of the room where she had only seconds later been standing. Blood gushed from a deep bullet hole in her upper back (near her heart), pouring out of her body and flowing freely onto the warehouse floor, running in little rivulets, then joining together in blossoming puddles. Dead. 

And the sad thing was, the only emotion Sydney felt was disgust. 

No sympathy. No tears. 

Turning her attention away from the gruesome sight, she focused her vision on the man she now found she owed her life to.

Alexander Khasinau, the man who she had once believed to be one of her enemies, avoided Sydney's eyes as he rushed over to untie Vaughn. 

After years of working under Irina Derevko, he was incredibly wary of all people, sensitive to event he slightest stare or sudden movement. You could even say that he was a coward, except for the undeniable fact that, when he had to, he would do anything necessary to get what he wanted. Including murder.

Vaughn let out a small whimper when Khasinau started undoing his bonds. Although he was far from dying, the wound in his shoulder was obviously deep and painful; Khasinau's prodding was agitating the injury.

"Who are you?" Vaughn questioned.

"Alexander Khasinau, a servant of the United States of America, at your service."

"So you weren't lying when you sent me that no--"

"No, I wasn't bluffing. It's unfortunate that you didn't believe me, and the situation came to this. The shoulder wound wasn't necessary, you know." Khasinau fell silent again after this sudden interjection.

Moments later, Vaughn was free. He instinctively grasped his shoulder, trying to alleviate some of the throbbing pain.

"Don't touch that; you'll only make it worse." Khasinau studied the wound through narrowed eyes.

He strode over to Sydney and without hesitation bent down, took a key out of his pocket, and unlocked the chains holding her hands prisoner.

Helping her up, his face reflected the slightest smile.

"Let's get the hell outta here."

Taking two guns out of his inside breast pocket, Khasinau almost carelessly tossed one to Sydney and one to Vaughn, who had to strain to catch it.

Soundlessly, the three walked to the door pushed it open, praying against any _creak_ that might arouse the attention of guards. Hearing none, and seeing no one in the immediate hallway, they stepped out of the room, leaving Irina alone in the gloom of the chamber.

Khasinau, Sydney, and Vaughn were each so caught up in their own thoughts and rush of adrenaline as they slipped through the opening that all three failed to notice Derevko's right hand twitch. Khasinau's bullet had hit _her _in the shoulder as well, missing the heart by mere inches. 

* * *

****

A/N: So, Sydney's Mom is once again on the rampage. What else is new? Vaughn, Khasinau, and Sydney are unaware of this "rebirth" and Francie has decided to rush in like an idiot and rescue everyone. Hmmm…this could get interesting. REALLY interesting. For the less bright people, this is a BIG hint to stay with me.

I also have an Alias trivia question for everyone, which will definitely factor into my story: Does Sark work for the Man, or is he part of some other criminal organization? Life-size posters of Michael Vartan to anyone who answers!!! Not really, but you get the idea.

--From the mind of Legolas' favorite authoress (I wish!).

Daphne: I thought you hated Legolas???

Heehee….


	6. A SHORT MESSAGE THIS IS NOT AN ACTUAL CH...

Hey, guys! What. is. up? I am being bogged down by exams (damn 'em!!) and homework lately,so unfortunately I won't be able to update until Christmas break. I'll be FRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE then. Sniff. I love winter.  
  
Things I plan to do after school lets out, in this order (in case you're interested):  
1) Dream about Legolas  
2) Go watch TWO TOWERS (LOTR RULES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)  
3) Watch TWO TOWERS again...and again...and again  
4) I'll be broke by then, so I guess I'll sleep  
5) Update fan fic, I promise  
  
So don't freak if I don't update for a long time. Last time that happened, I lost a lot of readers:(  
  
And always, ALWAYS read my bio, 'cause I always put in alot of info about my story and when I plan to update.  
  
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays:)  
  
XOXOXOXO,  
leggylover 


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